The AU Chronicles
by MUFCYorkRoadQuidditch
Summary: He was fed up. He was tired. But why was he in this situation? He began to remember... Harry's parents survived. But he disappeared. When he returned, he had fun, but then Hogwarts happened. When it was fun, it was very fun. Yet, nowadays it had stopped being that way. All because of one man. His childhood ruined... He remembered... (only one chapter is rated M)
1. Prolouge

**A/N- Hi everyone. Just a quick mess age to say that I don't own Harry Potter :(, and that this story is set in an AU. Lots of things happen, and the rating may be upped to an M at some point, due to a few planned saucy chapters set in year 3. This story covers all of the trio's time at hogwarts, and** **i _s_ in a Voldemort-free world. Enjoy!**

 **Rating for this chapter: K+**

 **Prolouge**

Parsel whispers

Having their house collapse was not on James and Lily's plans for the evening. Nor was losing their son. I mean dodging the killing curse had been neat, but seriously, that was one of the few good things that evening. Lily replayed the day in her head.

* * *

 _Harry was lying in his cot. Suddenly, a muffled 'Alohamora!' came from downstairs. James decended the stairs. The dark lord stood on his doorstep. Flanked by two dementors, Voldemort fired a curse._

 _"Sectumsempra!" Voldemort cried, as James dived out of the way. Lily screamed as she jumped, to avoid being hit. She had been on her way downstairs, and then launched a huge "Expecto Patronum!" at the attacking dementors._

 _"Incendio" Voldemort repeatedly screeched, setting the banister alight. "Expelliarmus! Avada Kedavra!" He screamed, and as James and Lily dodged, the bolts rebounded on to the ceining, and the house shuddered._

 _"Quick! I'll grab the galleons in the kitchen, you grab Harry, and run! Meet at the church!" James screamed, and as he sped out, and as Lily grabbed Harry, the house collapsed._

* * *

Lily sat on the pew. James had stopped being angry at her, and started being worried. He looked so much like his son, but Harry's eyes. Lily had looked in the mirror the day before. The peaceful day. The last day before she would start scolding herself for what she had done.

* * *

 _Lily looked around her, horrified. She was on the only remaining piece of the top floor, somehow perched on the archway between the living room and the kitchen. Should she jump down? She was so frightened. It was surreal. Looking around, she saw the remains of their bed. A matress. A soft matress. Hmmm. Lily bent her knees. Was her target too far? She jumped._

 _The wooshing of wind, a thud, and then a silence. Lily looked up. Alive? Definitely. Not Injured? Not majorly. Her son? No-where in sight. Oh. Then, she noticed him crawing over the rubble to his favourite toy, the stuffed wand he'd got for his birthday. As Harry grabbed it, Lily slowly walked twards him. God, this was wierd. Ten minutes ago, she'd thought about making a cup of what muggles called coffee. As Lily picked Harry up, she noticed James, standing by the end of the garden path. Lily ran to him._

 _Walking to the church, Lily realised how beatiful Godric's Hollow was. The church spire, all lit up in certain places. Even the graveyard was special. Wow. She must be shaken up, acknowedging how special a graveyard was. Wow. As she walked along the cobbled street, she tripped. Harry went flying into the bush. Lily and James looked for nearly an hour. They didn't find him._

* * *

As Lily wondered absent-mindedly outside, she heard a whisper of parseltongue. She couldn't understand it, but she could've sworn that she heard the words " _I'll be back_ "...


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own Harry Potter. Never have. Never will. This chapter is set 8 years after** **the prolouge. I have tweaked things like Hogsmeade and Hogwarts a little bit, but I think it fits with the story. If you don't like it, then just say 'serious renovations'. Sorry it has taken so long, but I go to school, and the fanfiction deleted all of what I wrote, so I had to re-write. All parseltongue has triple quotes instead of double quotes. Some charcter's personality has cahnged, so sorry about that. But, then again, the title of the story has 'AU' in it, so... Anyway, I'll shut up so you can enjoy the first real chapter of the story!**

 **Chapter Rating: T**

 **Chapter 1**

Returning hisses of our past

Lily sat in the living room of the main house in the Potter Estate. It was a beatiful spring day, and her living room, being on the top floor of the estate, was lit up beautifully by the sunrise. In the middle of the room, there was a large compass. Poining north was a red bolt with a lion at the base of it. South, a eagle, trimmed in blue. East, a green snake who's head was smiling, reminding Lily of her childhood crush, Serverus Snape. To to the west, there was a black, yellow, and marble white badger curled round the point. North, over the crest of a heather-covered hill, was Hogwarts. Although mostly out of sight, Lily could just see the tip of the tower where she lived for seven years. To the south, along the main lakeside road going down the western side of the estate, nestled in a shallow valley, was the villiage of Hogsmead. Faintly visible in the distance was the post office, the sweet shop, and the mysterious shrieking shack. James had once gone in there. He never told anyone what he found. To the west, being cut off by the road, was the 'neat' garden. A small stream began near the door of the house, in a large pond with a bridge and island on it. The stream then flowed through small ponds, under the road, and into the main lake. On the island, was the ' _Harry Potter Memorial Garden'_ , among other things, had a small carved stone phoenix, and model of Godric's Hollow. This was enchanted so it changed what ever went on there. If a new house was built, then a new house appeared. To the east, was the moor. A large, open space, with the only thing differentiating it from the rest of the terain being that it was owned. Lily noticed James trying, and failing, to use a muggle lawnmower to cut the grass. Sighing, Lily left the house to help him.

* * *

Even though it was tough, Lily got the lawnmower going. Being a muggle-born had advantages. After an hours work, the two truged back inside to the sound of Sirius Black using the floo network to enter. After saying hi, asking how James and Lily were, he told the couple some interesting news.

"Well, the order has reason to believe they have found your son," Sirius stated. He was met with silence, so he continued "a boy, aged 9, or around that has arrived in St. Mungo's. The moment I saw a picture in the paper, I saw the resemblence. He looked like you, James, although he definitely has his mothers eyes. What's more, the moment I saw, I rushed there. Although it was difficult to understand him, he seemed to recognise me."

"What do you mean, difficult to understand him?" James and Lily both said, almost in unison.

"Well, while he understands english, it seems he can only speak parseltongue. I reccomend that you, Lily," Sirius said, pointing at Lily as he said her name,"ask Serverus very nicely if he can translate until we can teach him english."

"I'll floo now." Lily said, and she moved over to the fireplace. As she got there, she noticed the burnt remains of today's rolled-up _daily prophet_ , and wondered why it was burnt. Why?

* * *

 ** _-A few hours earlier-_**

 _Slowly, Insolitam slithered on the floor. He'd never known his real name, but that was what all the other snakes called him. Insolitam. Latin for unusual. Fitting really. If he wanted, he could change the shape of his body, and become a two-legged creature. He was weird, in that he generally hunted differently than the others. Insted of persuing prey, whatever came first, Insolitam scanned the world, looking for the optimal prey. The bigger and slower, the better. A large sloth? He'd come across one once, and it fed him for a week. A small snail? An snack, not a meal. Insolitam was different visually, too. Instead of being a browny-green, he was the most vibrant dark green you've ever seen. He had bright yellow and beigy brown rings around his body, and was around 2-and-a-half feet long. He had red markngs around his jet black orbs he had for eyes, and his tail section was a white that lasted for about 4 inches, before taking another 3 to fade into the green of his body. Today, he was out hunting. Suddenly, he heard a rustle in the bushes behind him._

* * *

Lily sat at St. Mungo's, looking at her son. He stared at her, as if she was an alien creature. He hissed, a long and bold hiss, as if to say 'Go away or I will start swearing. Loud.' Snape flooed into the room, saying "Good morning Lily,", pausing, and then hissing "'Hello harry. How are you today? Are you okay?'"

"'Ssssssstop it. There is no Harry here.'" Harry hissed, followed by Snape translating.

"'What sssshhhhould we call you then, Harry?'" Snape asked, and was about to say 'And this is your mother, Lily', when James burst in.

"Why is that hog with my son?" James demanded, drawing his wand.

"We agreed, remember. He would translate Harry's parseltongue, and then we could ask Harry questions. Do you not recall?" Lily calmly pointed out. Honestly, sometimes, she worried. She loved James dearly, but he definitely could be impulsive.

"Ohhhhhhhh. Well, um, how is harry doing, Serverus?" James said, considerably embarrassed. This made Snape smile thinly, but he said nothing.

"Well, I had asked him a question, and he might've answered if _you_ hadn't interrupted." Snape growled, stressing the 'you'.

"Boys, stop argui-" Lily started, attempting to calm the nerves. Stopping a full-blown argument between the two was critical to her. She was cut off by a low, long hisssssssss from Harry.

"What did he say, Serverus?" Lily asked expectantly. To her surprise, James nodded.

"He said that he was the called Insolitam," Snape stated, before hissing "'What happened Insolitam? Why did you show your face after all these years. And then, with Snape translating, Harry explained.

* * *

 _Insolitam turned, frightened. He knew he had been careless, showing his human form to the two-leggers. He'd seen them once, when he was younger. They had brandished weird twigs that fired red bolts out of them. Red-lighters, he'd called them. They had recognised him, and as he got away, they had said that they'd find him again. He'd been in his two-legged form himself that day, which he wanted to do now. He was faster that way, and he could get away. He ran. He tripped, and fell to the floor. He got his way back up, panicking in the torment. At a cry of incend-ino, or something similar, the trees in front of him burst into flames. He turned around, heard something intelligible, and saw a blue bolt of light. He regististered what had been said. Something like 'petrify-cuss total-us'. Insolitam couldn't move. And then, the last thing he remembered was a cry of 'Stupify!', and then, the world went black._

* * *

"We are so sorry Har- Insolitam. That sounds horrible." Lily said, comfortingly. That did sound minorly traumatic, especially if you didn't know magic. To Lily's surprise, Harry, sitting on the bed, turned into a snake and curled up, almost content, next to Lily.

"'Harry, would you like to go with your mum, back to your home?'" Snape asked.

"'Home? I have a home?'" Harry asked, so happy he didn't even notice how Serverus said 'Harry'.

"Yes, you have a home, would you like to go there?" James and Lily asked, in complete unison. Snape was amazed at this double act they did. Then Harry said something no-one was expecting.

"Yesssssssssss."

* * *

The next few years passed, mostly without incident, until Harry turned 11. He had stopped wanting to be called Insolitam, and was as good at english as he was at parseltongue, apart from hissing his 'ssssss' sound, that is. He had learnt the quirkyness of wizards and muggles, and was gifted and intelligent. For the past he had gone to a muggle school, and was the best, academically at least, in the school. Then, along with his other presents for his birthday, Harry got a letter. _Hmmm. Who would post letters to me?_ He thought, and opened it. Before he pulled out the contents, he had another look at the torn seal. _Hogwarts_ _school of witchcraft and wizardry_ it said. His mum had mentioned that once. But why were they interested in him? He read the letter inside.

"Mum, dad, there's a school that really wants to have me. It's called Hogwarts." Harry shouted through the house. Lily and James immediately stopped what they were doing, and ran to Harry. They were really happy. Their son was going to Hogwarts!

* * *

A few days after James and Lily took Harry to a place called 'Diagon Alley', James, Lily, Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus were standing on platform 9 and 3/4 at Kings Cross. James and Lily had stayed in London, and were going to disapperate back to the house. As Harry boarded the train, he waved to them. As the train entered a tunnel, which would take it under London, Harry found a compartment with two people in it.

"Hello. I'm Harry Potter. Who are you?" Harry said, trying to break the ice. Hermionie Granger, a brunnette-haired witch said "I'm Hermionie Granger, and this is Ron Weasley." The ginger boy, Ron, hadn't even looked up from his work he was doing, and looked minorly annoyed at the disruption. He looked up, and changed completely. He had realised who Harry was. Feeling like he was having his hand yanked off, Harry was minorly annoyed. He sat down, and wondered if he would enjoy Hogwarts.

* * *

Needing the loo, Harry had left the compartment. On his way back, he saw a blond boy whom he had met at Diagon Alley. Harry had said that he seemed to austere and unkind, which had really worked the other boy up. What was his name? Was it... Draco Malfoy? Yes, that was it. To Harry's surprise, Malfoy stopped as he passed.

"What'cha doing, idiot?" Malfoy asked, in a bully tone.

"Ingoring you." Harry responded, and tried to push past. Draco blocked him. Harry found himself pulled into an unused compartment. Harry then heard it before he registered what he'd seen. Crack! And then the pain! Oh, the pain! Had Malfoy given him a broken nose? As Harry contemplated this, he let his guard down. And then, he was met with a "Petrificus Totalis!" from the Malfoy Bugger. He fell to the floor, and watched as Malfoy stamped his foot on Harry's chest, possibly breaking a few ribs. Harry passed out from the pain, and the last thing he heard was a muttered "Obliviate."

* * *

Harry woke up with Hermionie worriedly looking over him. What on earth had happened? Why did his nose ache? And... Where was he? The train had stopped moving, and it was in a station. Hermionie helped him up gave him his bags, and the two left the train. Ron was waiting on the platform. Harry took a moment to take in the station. This was where he was! He recognised the bridge, because James and Lily had taken him here the day before they went to London. Did that mean they were near now? That road bridge at the end of the platform? Was that the road that led from Hogwarts, past the house, and into Hogsmeade? Harry smiled. He was in a lovely familiar place, and was just contemplating walking along the road, popping in to say hi to James and Lily, when he heard a voice he recognised as belonging to gamekeeper, Hagrid, calling "Firs' years, over 'ere!" As Harry walked to him, he was put in a boat with Hermionie, Ron, and Neville. Harry realised, this very night, that for all that she was clever and bossy, Hermionie Granger was beautiful. As the boat passed the house, Harry thought about this, and nicknamed the boat 'The Love Boat'.

* * *

A giant hall presented itself to Harry. Lit cangles hung on fireproof ropes from the mesmorising ceiling. Why mesmorising? It actually looked like the night sky above, with the stars re-arranged slightly, to form words. Over one table, which had green snake banners, the stars said 'Salazar Slytherin', while a table draped in blue had the stars align to form the words 'Roweena Ravenclaw'. A third table, beautifully decorated with pale yellow gold, jet ink black obsidian, and crystal-like marble, had the words 'Helena Hufflepuff' over it, and the last table, which was the second most impressive (after Hufflepuff, of course) was decorated with huggets of carnelian embeddn into the edge of the table, and a blood red table cloth stretching the length of the table. As red, lion-covered banners dropped from the starry ceiling, over the table, he noticed the words in the stars. 'Godric Gryffindor'. Godric. Godric's. Godric's Hollow. And in that moment, Harry felt a sense of meaning other than being a snake or being an academic genius. He felt like he had another family.

* * *

Harry walked nervously up to the podium. After Hermionie, the bookworm, and Ron, the academic rival for Harry, had been sorted into Ravenclaw house, who's table had the words 'Wisdom, Intelligence, Ravenclaw' engraved upon it in beauiful amethyst crystals, Harry felt anxious. Would he be with his friends. As he sat on the chair, the hat was pulled over Harry's eyes, and then he heard a voice.

"Hmmm. You are interesting. Very interesting. The raw intelligence of a Ravenclaw, but yet, you are so much like a Slytherin." Teh hat said. Harry shuddered. Draco Malfoy was a Slytherin. Harry didn't like Draco Malfoy.

"Your Gryffindor-style bravery in unrivalled, but you also have what Hufflepuff values. You are hard-working and loyal. I cannot put you." The hat said. And then, to the entire hall, the sorting hat bellowed "HARRY POTTER CAN CHOOSE WHICH HOUSE HE WANTS TO GO IN. HE WOULD DO GREAT IN ALL FOUR." There was a deathly silence. Harry murmured something that turned out to be a 'Ravenclaw'. As Harry sat with his friends, and then later went to bed, he thought about Hogwarts. How amazing was. And how much of a fantastic year he was going to have.

How wrong he was.

 **A/N-You hate me. I know you do.**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi everyone. Shorter, more fast-paced one today. Quick thanks to the people who have faved/followed my story (incedentally, they own Harry Potter as much as I do. Which is to say, that, we as a group own it about as much as your father does...). This story is set 20 years later than it does in the books, e.g Godric's Hollow incident takes place in 2001 instead of 1981. Lyrics are in _itallics_. The wiki is the HP fanfic writer's best tool. Seriously. It proved invaluable. Fron collopotus to confundus, and some **m****r*. Censored for the purpose of not revealing spoilers.**

 **Chapter Rating: T**

 **Chapter 2**

Take me to your blackened sky...

 _Look at slow motion,_

 _Asleep at the door._

 _Next to destruction,_

 _Reach for the sores._

Harry listened to Hermionie's muggle music. _Joy Discovery_ _Invention_ , the song was called. By a band called _Biffy Clyro_. A rock band, which was a genre Harry slurped up like a cat to milk.

 _Get up, get up, get over,_

 _Take me to your blackened sky._

 _Get up, get up, get over,_

 _Take me to your blackened sky._

Harry wondered what the lyrics were about. And as Draco Malfoy listened across, from the Slytherin table, he knew full well that the lyrics had a meaning no-body but his family knew about. Harry Potter, in a few precious days.

* * *

Defence against the dark arts. What could that be about? As Harry entered his first lesson at Hogwarts, he wondered. Proffesor Quirrel, was the teachers name. And he was a bumbling idiot. Honestly, if you were qualified to teach, then you were meant to actually say stuff, as opposed to murmuring and mumbling. From that day onward, Harry knew that he wouldn't get any skills from this lesson this year.

After that, was History of Magic. A dreadful nightmare. 2 hours, of a teacher droning on about how magic began, and how it was given to the precious few first wizards. Harry actually fell asleep, amd had to be woken up by Ron. Gosh, today was fun.

After lunch, Harry went to Charms. Where he learnt something. They were doing floating spells, and, as Hermionie told him, it's 'lev-ee-oh-sa', not 'le-vee-oh-sar'. This was very boring. He knew everything else he had been taught today.

Then, came potions. Oh, gosh. Potions. Proffessor Snape was one of the worst teachers that Harry had ever met. He verbally abused most of the children in the class; the only ones he didn't bully were Harry, Hermionie, and Ron. Ron and Hermionie, because they were just a brilliant pair, and Harry? No idea. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they vaguely knew each other.

That night, Harry had a lot to think about. Malfoy had come up to him that evening, at dinner. He'd said that he was doomed. Harry had replied with 'Bog off' in parseltongue. Which meant that most people, apart from the Weasleys, Hermionie, and Neville had alienated him. Ah well. Today had been a long day.

* * *

 _Sink with your wasted,_

 _Dreams when you can._

 _Find time to console them,_

 _Become what I am._

* * *

Draco decided to add injury to insult which hadn't been given yet. Clever. How did he do it? Well, he approached Harry before breakfast, while Harry was in the loo...

"Listen Harry, I'm sorry for the incident in the hall." Draco started.

"It's okay, I forgive you for both." Harry said, surprised. Maybe Malfoy wasn't bad after all.

"No, wait. I'm not! Colloportus! Accio shaving blade!" Draco said, surprising Harry. He was caught off guard, which meant he wasn't prepeared for Draco's attack. Cutting into Harry's skin, and making him unconcious, Draco them heaved Harry's form into a cubicle. Locking the door, Draco used the 'Alohamora' spell to re-open the toilets door, and prepare for the main event.

* * *

 _If you submit to,_

 _All the hopes you've made._

 _Down, through,_

 _Your heart._

* * *

Hermionie was worried. Where was Harry? It was time for breakfast, and Harry had been bought a late birthday present by Hermionie and Ron. Hedwig, an owl, was now sittinig expectantly on their table. Harry had promised he would be there. So where was he? Ron had gone to find him, in the last place he knew that Harry had gone. The gents. Hermionie was jolted out of her thoughts by the redhead himself, telling her to come to the hospital ward herself. There, the two saw Harry, barely concious, and definitely in stress.

"Who? Who? And why?" Harry murmured, with anger in his voice. Obviously, someone had obliviated his memory of the incident. But who would be this sadistic? And why? What advantage would they get? Hermionie swore to get answers, which she wouldn't get for many years to come.

* * *

 _Get up, get up, get over,_

 _Take me to your blackened sky._

 _Get up, get up, get over,_

 _Take me to your blackened sky._

* * *

Draco knew of the unforgivables. Of course he did. It was obvious he'd know, considering that his father had been a death eater. Sadly, to save his own skin, he'd had to give up that that identity. Lucius Malfoy actively promoted using them to his son. He'd even used cruciatus on hsi son once; he'd broken a family heirloom. And then, the following day, he'd taught his son about the imperius, the cruciatus, and the killing curses. And how the Potter's had effectively murdered his master. A horrible death, slowly losing horcruxes, all th Potter's fault. Then that fateful night, in Godric's Hollow. How Lily had spared herself by saving Harry, condemning Voldemort to a painful crushing. Draco was about to get revenge. He knew it was going to be painful, but Harry would be in Askaban by the end of the week. Draco was sure of it.

* * *

 _Passed away,_

 _I hope you don't mind._

 _What's a little sin,_

 _To see us through?_

* * *

Once again, Draco caught Harry in the loos, in the morning. Locking the doors, Draco Malfoy put his plan into action.

"Expelliarmus! Accio Harry Potter's wand!" Draco shouted. And now, the confunding part.

"Confundus!" Draco pointed at Harry's own wand. Now, if any scans were done, all spells done by the wand in the next fifteen miniutes would be shown as being cast by Harry. Which meant phase one was done. Now phase two.

"Imperio," Draco cast, instantly controling Harry, "The next time I say that I am late for breakfast, you will immediately turn to me, channel all your anger into your wand, and say _Crucio_ at me. You will also not remember this meeting or the fact I told you to do this for two weeks. Do you understand?" Harry gave a blank nod.

"Excellent..." Draco said, and left.

* * *

 _If you want it,_

 _Get it,_

 _Come and break my heart._

 _Take me to your blackened sky._

* * *

"Oh great." Draco spat. He checked that both a proffessor and the Potter brat were within earshot. 'Albus, get ready.' Draco thought.

"What's up?" Crabbe asked. A buffoon Draco had somehow attained, he was a limpet.

"Well, I had a skirmish with Potter, and I am now going to be late for breakfast." Draco said, making sure Harry heard the last part. Harry turned, suddenly angry. He didn't know where he'd got this idea from. He didn't know what the curse did. But, nonetheless, Harry pointed his wand at Draco, and, channelling all his anger, he shouted "CRUCIO!"

Draco writhed in pain, but it was made a hundred time better knowing that this was for the greater good. His tummy ached. He fought the urge to laugh histerically. Potter stopped. McGonagall rushed over, and swept Harry under her arm, and to his cell in Askaban.

* * *

 _If you want it,_

 _Get it,_

 _Come and break my heart._

 _Take me to your blackened sky._

* * *

The small rowboat creaked. Harry vauguely wandered where he was going. Then he remembered. Askaban, the wizarding equivalent to the tower of London. He was up that very poo-filled creek, not just withour a paddle, but without the canoe itself. As he reached the small island, he saw the guards. One came up close. A dementor. Harry felt every good feeling, every happy memory, every joke, and every friendly face just 'pop' away. And then he realised the meaning of the song. He looked up, at the the darkening sky. Askaban. With the blackened sky.

 _Passed away,_

 _I hope you don't mind._

 _What's a little sin,_

 _To see us through?_

 _If you want it, get it,_

 _Come and break my heart._

 _Take me to your,_

 _Blackened sky._


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry that I have been so long. I completely forgot about fanfiction, and had severe writers block. It was definitely very 'insolitam' (JOKE!) for me. Read chapter 1 if you do not get it. Anyway, I own HP about as much as Harry does, and currently he is in Askaban. And I don't think you can own a book series when you are in jail… Anyway, this one is going to be sad. And possibly rated T+ (Between a T and an M).**

 **Chapter rating: T+ (Is this a thing?)**

 **Chapter 3**

Released

Cries and screams rang through the corridor. His alarm clock. He was one of the last cells to be visited, so he had ample time to prepare. Still, he did not have long to wait now. A week. Then he would not think. It would all be over, and there would just be a shell. With his bloodstained hands, he scratched another mark. It was now… June? July? Suddenly, the shape appeared at his door. He prepared, he built up his mental blockades. Still, nothing could prepare him every time an onslaught came his way…

Hermione, Ron, James, and Lily watched the island get closer and closer and closer. James felt a chill the likes of which he hadn't felt since… Well, since Godric's Hollow. Lily felt great fear. Hermione had read up on Dementors and Askaban, but nothing prepared you for this. Ron was asleep. He was dreaming of eating a Pumpkin Pie, and being far, far away. Sensible. The boat moored up. A Dementor moved up. Ron woke. James showed the Dementors their passes. The Dementors simply stood to one side. James tried not to rock the boat overly. Lily got out. Hermione ignored the Dementors, and Ron stared wide-eyed at them. Still, they had finally won the legal battle. Now to rescue what was left. One prisoner stared wide-eyed. Another simply closed their eyes. CVE401 was the cell they were to find. They had the only key. CVE398, CVE399, CVE400… CVE401. The light was off. James opened the door. He felt for the light. And gasped at what he saw.

Mould covered the room. Cracks, sharp enough to cut through flesh, were all over the concrete walls. Bloodstains were everywhere, and there was a particularly large pool of it on the floor. A small figure was huddled in the corner. He was deathly thin, horribly white, and was curled up in a foetal position, gently rocking from side to side. Harry. Hundreds of tally marks covered one wall.

"Harry?" Asked Ron. Hermione and Lily asked the same seconds later, and James just stood there in shock. How? Why?

Hermione tried again. She gently kneeled down next to Harry, and asked him if he was okay. Without warning, Harry reached for her pocket, and pulled out a pen and notebook. He began writing. He showed his first sentence to the group. They were astonished.

' _Dementors tortured me and flayed my skin, as well as cutting my tongue off."_

 **A/N: How hard it was not to end it there…**

' _Every day, the torture. Day… 15. Day 15 was hard. The hatred that came with realisation of who and why I was here.'_ Harry wrote. Of course. There hadn't been any evidence as to who, and when asked, Harry had just shaken his head. They had begun to get him out, and James was carrying him to the boat. Harry's legs were too weak to stand.

' _And then, I began to show desperation. My mistake. Because the Dementors noticed that. And they took that as a reason. Or an excuse. I was beaten every day, and they lifted me up and beat my head against a wall, blood everywhere. I guess they were tired of screams. So I had my tongue cut. But I still cried. And desperately tried to get out. But to no avail.'_ Harry wrote. They were now on the boat, and several times, Harry had stopped and briefly sobbed. They rowed on.

"We all saw it. We couldn't explain it, but we all saw it." Hermione began. Harry had now been returned to Hogwarts, where Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff had all written apology cards. Hermione filled Harry in on what had happened in Hogwarts and in the Ministry.

"We tried to protest that you would never do such a thing, but Draco's dad is a member of the Ministry. It was only when I performed charms to prove that your wand had been confounded and that someone had put you under the Imperius curse, a curse used by dark wizards to control the mids of others, did they consider holding a second trial. But that took months. We were all so, so sad Harry. And we're all really, really sorry for what happened. We hope you'll forgive us." Hermione explained. Harry met that with a nod. He curled up, and turned into his snake form. He was asleep in ten minutes.

Hermione and Ron tutored Harry over the next few days, about all the things that they had learnt. Quirrel had been sacked, and replaced by a new professor, Harry's uncle (although not through blood) Lupin. Harry showed great excitement at this, and all through the Easter holidays, was determined to have him tutoring him instead of his friends. On the first day he was able to actually go around school (Madame Pomfrey was very, very, very determined that he would not leave), he walked into the great hall in a very bright mood. Today was when school begun, and he bounded into the room, practally skipping. He briefly glared at Draco Malfoy, and then sat down. He loved freedom. But he was tired. Very tired. He had not been sleeping well recently, ever since he had come back. On the bright side, Pomfrey had been able to fix his tongue. A very bright side. He chatted, laughed, and smiled with his friends, and they ate breakfast together, happy and excited for the upcoming day.

Anger. Pure anger ran through Draco's veins. He was angry at this. Potter was happy, free, and well. How could he do it? He fumed. In potions, Harry attempted to give him a friendly smile. Draco growled. In DADA, Harry attempted to hex him with a spell of love, meaning that his love would love him for the entire day. Draco dodged. Potter seemed to have forgiven Draco. Bad. During dinner, Harry came over and gave him a present. A small, model broom. Harry was really into Quiddich, the main wizarding sport, and so was Draco. Draco simply crushed it under his foot. And as the summer began, Draco formulated a plan. A very evil plan. One that could get rid of Potter for good.

 **A/N: I have no schedule, so you may wait a long time or a short time for the evil plan. But it is very evil…**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello peoples. I don't own HP. At all. I own the stories that I create, but not HP itself. So don't sue me or anything. Plz. Anyway, just a quick shout-out to two things. 1: I have created a community filled with dark and depressed HP characters in fanfics that I find. Check them out; all the authors that are and will be on there a talented. 2: This chapter and the next are inspired by the some chapters of the fanfiction '** _ **Slytherin, Snape, and Dudley**_ **'. Shout-out to the author of that one. Anyway, I've spent 109 words on this A/N, so let's get on with the story.**

 **Chapter Rating: K+**

 **Chapter 4**

Another Year, Another Plan

The summer holidays were turning out to be annoyingly uneventful. Harry got some presents for his birthday, including a quidditch book (James and Lily got Harry that; they thought he'd make a great quidditch player.), an owl named Hedwig, who was brown like seeded bread, and had little darker and lighter flakes of colour among her hair, from Ron, a Rememberall from Neville (Nev hated it.), and a book from Hermione all about how the wizarding world came to be embroiled in the devastating wizarding war that had ended with the vanquishing of Voldemort a good few years ago. Harry was now 12. He remembered his 11th with joy; the feeling of coming downstairs, feeling that little bit older, and being able to open his presents from his family. They hadn't really had anything like that in the snake tribe; the nearest they had really got was a tribal-style celebration to celebrate the 5-year anniversary of someone entering the tribe, but those were simple, hunting exercises. Still, Harry missed it. He sat in the neat garden at his house. He stared up at the tower, Gryffindor tower. How he longed to be back there, to be back walking along those passageways. Even though he'd only been there for around 1/3 of last year, it still felt like an eternity, but a good eternity. The kind of eternity you'd want to spend eternity in. He sighed. He longed to be back there, even though he had a sneaking suspicion that this year would be as much of a train wreck as the last.

The Hogwarts express zipped through the countryside. Harry didn't get why he had to go all the way back to London only to go all the way back to about 1 mile from where he lived. He was sitting, gazing out of the window, and thinking of what would happen this year. He still felt apprehensive, but was more excited than nervous. A station whizzed by. Muggles stood on the platform. Harry turned to Hermione. She was asleep. Harry decided to read her present to him. He was about 1/5 of the way through it, and it had just finished explaining how the actions of previous wizards had created the scenario that meant that a new dark wizard could mean catastrophe. It was a fun book to read, and he was really enjoying it. He had already sorted her a present, a book all about how the dark arts came to be and how the three unforgivable curses were made… well, unforgivable. Hermione loved wizarding history, and Harry knew she'd love it. Ron was sitting on the opposite side of their compartment, talking to his sister, Ginny, who was starting Hogwarts, how it worked and things like that. Malfoy appeared at the door. Oh no. Not this.

Malfoy opened the door. He was halfway through it when Hermione just sprung up, as though she'd never been asleep, and slammed the door. Draco screeched, and immediately withdrew. Within seconds, Harry was already casting 'Colloportus' and locking the door. Draco simply smashed the compartment window. He grabbed Ron by the shirt and started tugging him through the door. Ron fell unconscious to the ground. Ginny, with no magical knowledge, was easy prey, and Malfoy simply said "Stupify!" and his opponents were halved. Hermione was next. Draco shoved his way into the wrecked compartment and shoved Hermione's head out the window. She was knocked unconscious by the next bridge. Draco jumped onto a seat, and 'accidentally' knocked a suitcase down straight onto Harry's head. Harry was now unconscious. Draco hurriedly wiped the memories of his victims and repaired the compartment. As he left, he thought one thing: 'No-one foils a Malfoy's plan'.

The first week was over. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny wandered almost drunkenly off the Hogwarts express that evening, and had to go and see the nurse. Harry had a concussion, Ron's airway had been damaged, Ginny was physically fine, but Hermione was in the hospital almost all week. Harry anxiously waited for a parcel at breakfast, Saturday. James and Lily had ordered a broom for him, a Firebolt prototype. These, if they were good, would be rolled out next summer, and Harry had been asked to test it in actual quiddittch matches. Hedwig dropped it onto his table. Professor McGonnagall had approved him joining the team, and everything was jolly. Harry was considerably happier today than any other day of this academic year so far.

"May the game begin!" cried Dumbledore. Harry was quidditch seeker, and Ravenclaw were playing Slytherin, and the Slytherin seeker was a new hire, Draco. The game began with the two seekers racing up. The game had begun. The two brooms soared through the sky, chasing the snitch. It flew on and on, taking the pursuers everywhere. They chased on and on, and soon they went across the black lake, which was glimmering in the sunlight. Pines and firs, twenty foot tall, lined the lake and went up both sides of the expansive valley. The snitch raced on, taking them through the trees, into a cave, skidding along the lake, and then round the towers of Hogwarts. It hovered, and Draco thought it had gone one way, but in fact, it had gone another. With Harry pursuing it, he dived and climbed over the quidditch pitch. He went under the stands, and then, just as Draco was returning and just as Harry emerged, it happened. The snitch stopped. Both seekers dived, but Harry was there first. With a triumphant cheer, he lapped the stadium, holding the snitch in one hand and his broom in the other. He had done it. Ravenclaw had won. Draco looked on sourly. He growled. Still, Harry wouldn't bother Draco anymore. Not from tomorrow.

Harry had a celebratory breakfast that evening, as the quidditch chase had gone on long into the night and no one had actually eaten. Tomorrow was Hermione's birthday. Today was Monday, meaning fun and DADA. Harry enjoyed DADA. Harry celebrated, and then got everyone drinks. Little did he know that his was spiked with a potion. Oblivious, Harry headed off to first lesson. But by break, he wasn't feeling well, and lunch was hell. He couldn't bring himself to eat. Hermione and Ron actually had to prop him up between them to carry him to the nurse. Pomfrey took one look at him and was immediately shoving about 10 different potions down his neck. After dinner, Hermione and Ron went to the hospital and found that Harry was worse.

"And if we don't work out and find a cure by this time tomorrow, he'll be dead." Madam Pomfrey solemnly stated.

 **A/N: Please tell me you hate me! Review if you do!**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: So sorry about the wait, but I am not gone like last time. Just writer's block, that's all. Anyway, enjoy the chapter and the fact that I don't own Harry Potter!**

 **Chapter Rating: T**

 **Chapter 5**

Thwarted Painfully

That night, no one in Ravenclaw slept. They were all worried, some severely, as they had all seen Harry yesterday. Hermione and Ron had brought the news that Harry was poisoned, and immediately set about searching. They had asked for all of his symptoms, had decided which one of them would research what, and they had decided that Hermione would research poisons and venoms, while Ron would search through all of the spells and hexes known to wizardkind. Around 2am, Ron reached the end of the book, and ran out of leads. He joined Hermione, who was currently frantically looking through a big book. _How to identify mushroom poisoning, both magical and muggle_ was its title. She reached page 231. _Death Flower Mushrooms_ was the page she was looking at. The second-most deadly mushroom known to the world of wizards.

' _Symptoms include: vomiting_ (check) _, a cold fever_ (check) _, cramps_ (check) _, and a unique feature, a multicolour rash, usually blue or green_ (Both). Hermione looked at Ron. Then she wondered where Ron was. He was on his way to the infirmary already. Hermione ran after him. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Peeves the ghost tripped them up. The mushroom was poisonous, and by the onset of symptoms, it had been administered at breakfast. Hermione looked at her watch. _02:17_. They had 6 and ¾ hours or the effects would be irreversible. Hermione lost her rag at Peeves, but this was a clever ploy. If Hermione preoccupied Peeves the Poltergeist, then Ron could run ahead and tell Madame Pomfrey. Which is what he did. By 2:30, Professor Snape, potions master, had been summoned. It took one look at Harry and Snape was concerned. Immediately after Ron and Hermione had told him what to do, he darted away to the potions cupboard. He jumped in and grabbed 10 different ingredients. This potion, the anti-fungus potion, could take hours. Hours that Harry did not have.

"Add the crushed (or diced, said Snape's notes) Gillyweed and then chop (or grate) 1kg of Boomslang Skin into the mix." Snape recited. He read from his personal book, with all of the tips and tricks that he had learnt over the years. Sometimes, the official potion books weren't the best source of potion ingredients, and while the recipe in the book worked, his improved recipe was… well, improved. He stirred. _08:37_. He had 23 minutes. It said he would need 15 (best 20) minutes to stir and then it would be ready. He was cutting it fine. Very fine. He stirred. He stirred. He stirred. He stared. He looked at the walls of the dungeons. Gosh, he wished that he knew who had done this. Little did he know that he was looking at the bed of the poisoner.

Hermione groaned. _07:32_. She was groggy after having been up until 3am the previous night. She woke in Ravenclaw tower. Huh? She had fallen asleep at Harry's side. He had been deliriously mumbling her name. So how? She looked over at Ron. Fast asleep. Ah. That made sense. She groggily got up, and got changed. _07:49_. Right. She had to be with Harry for if they couldn't find a cure, because Harry would want someone with him. Peeves lurked outside the door to the common room. Hermione was drenched by a water-balloon. Peeves then got hexed multiple times. Hermione simply ended her hexing spree by saying "Let's just say that if you were alive 10 minutes ago you wouldn't be now." followed by her calmly walking off.

Hermione arrived at the hospital ward soon after. Harry was deathly pale. His usually shiny hair had turned very greasy and dull, almost like all of the life had been sucked out of it. His skin, normally bright and faintly pink, was almost bone-white. The only colour on his skin was a blue-green rash, which seemed to be fanning out and consuming him whole. His eyes, although they were wide open, seemed dull and empty, devoid of the light and intrigue that usually filled them. He looked dead, but a shallow and pained rise-and-fall of his chest proved otherwise. Hermione found a tear on the floor. Followed by another. She was so in shock with the state that Harry was in that it took three tears for her to realise that she was crying. By this point, she had sat down, and Ron and Neville Longbottom, her friend from Gryffindor, had joined her. _08:45_. 'Hurry up Professor Snape. Hurry up.' Was all that went through Hermione's mind as she looked anxiously down the corridor.

While 20 minutes of stirring was optimal, 15 was all the potion needed. So, at 8 to 9, Snape put a sample of the potion into a glass. No time for a bottle, no time for a stopper, no time for walking, no time for anything other than grabbing the potion and going. He ran past some giggling first-years. They simply stopped and looked worriedly in his direction. Suddenly, as he could see the hospital ward in sight, the staircase moved. He saw a third-year walking past the entrance to the hospital. Snape called to her, and then, after he had instructed her, he threw the potion and hoped for the best. The glass wobbled and landed in the student's hand. Snape barked at her to take the potion to Madam Pomfrey and tell her that the potion was the antidote from Snape. Pomfrey wasted no time. At 08:59, Harry was fed the potion. But was it too late?

Hermione anxiously waited. She was worried because it was now 09:10 and Harry hadn't shown any sign of improving. The first thing that was supposed to happen was that Harry would wake from his coma, which he certainly hadn't done. The clock ticked on, slower and slower, almost mocking Hermione in her worriedness. At 09:15, Pomfrey declared that it hadn't worked. Hermione turned to leave. She was crying openly now. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a little twitch. Then another. Then a brief blink. Then Harry opened his eyes for slightly longer; maybe 5 seconds. Harry suddenly groaned. Madame Pomfrey cast several spells and hexes. Harry was recovering. Hermione, Ron, Snape, Pomfrey, and a third-year Ravenclaw named Cho Chang had saved Harry!

After about a month, Harry was fit to leave. All in all, he had missed 35 days, including a mid-term exam. He was bummed out. On the bright side, he was alive. As he was discharged from hospital, he practically skipped into the Great Hall. He was so looking forward to the rest of the year, which passed in a blur of spells, hexes, charms, and a Great Goblin Rebellion in the year something or other. He was alive and well, and he was really enjoying quidditch. He won the house cup after an exhilarating game where Ravenclaw were 150-10 down, and then, out of nowhere, he saw the snitch. He dived, and caught it, winning the game, the quidditch cup, and the house cup. As the train pulled into Kings Cross that July, he reflected on the year. He hadn't had too bad a year, and it couldn't get worse, could it? Draco Malfoy looked across. He knew full well how bad it would get, and he briefly glanced at Potter. Their eyes met. They had a silent conversation before going their separate ways. Draco hadn't given away anything. So, if he could get rid of Potter, then maybe he could create a scenario where Potter would be in trouble and would be dealt with once and for all.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Just three things to say. 1: I still don't own Harry Potter, only my ideas. And any OC's that arrive at some point in the next few chapters (*foreshadowing*). 2: This chapter is more of a filler, and it serves as context to a later chapter which is very important to the plot. 3:** _ **Italics**_ **are flashbacks or similar. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter Rating: My invented T+ (Chapter 3).**

 **Chapter 6**

The Boggart

Third year came about sooner than Harry would have liked. He was noticing a very severe problem: every day, he aged by one day. Because of this, or so he said, the summer simply passed by. Not that Harry didn't like school or anything; it was just that in the two years prior something had gone horribly wrong. Harry, as a result, was understandably apprehensive. As he walked into the barrier and onto the platform, he looked around. Where was Ron? He saw a tuft of hazel-brunette hair sticking up among the crowd. Hermione! Ron was next to her, as Harry discovered after barging through to them. Over the journey, they talked, read, and played games. They chatted about the weather, about the news, and about anything else that popped into their heads. They were happy and content.

The first Defence Against The Dark Arts lesson of the year began with the class moving the tables to the edges of the room.

"Right class. Today, we will be learning about Boggarts, magical shape-shifters. Does anyone know what form they take?" Professor Lupin asked. Unsurprisingly, the only three volunteering information were Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Which one to choose. He chose Ron.

"A Boggart takes the form of whatever, whoever, or whenever your worst and deepest darkest fear is. It can be repelled using the spell 'Riddikkulus'." Ron stated. Lupin looked at him. He was good. Very good. However, he had missed one thing.

"Very good," started Lupin "but the one thing you have forgotten is the three different types of Boggart: insolidified, memorial, and solidified. An insolidified Boggart is a Boggart that may be a place, person, or a thing. A memorial Boggart is where it is a memory, and is played out to the victim like a projector showing a movie. The final type is the solidified Boggart. Only 23 people in the entire world are known to have this, so I doubt that any of you will have on. In fact, I expect that out of the class of 53, maybe 5 of you will have a memorial Boggart. Anyway, let's get into the practical, shall we?"

The class lined up, ready to face the Boggart. Neville was first, Ron was seventh, Hermione eighth, Draco ninth, and Harry tenth. All of a sudden, just as Neville was about to start, Draco burst into a fit of crying. Harry knew it was a desperate act, but Lupin bought it. Draco had got out of it.

Neville stepped forward. With a cry of 'Alohamora', the cupboard containing the boggart opened. A dark figure strode out. Snape. He began setting detentions and docking points. Nevertheless, Neville successfully defeated the Boggart.

On Ron's go, a scene confronted him. Hermione was dead, slain by Harry, who was crazed, splattered in blood. Ron was horrified. Then, a cloud of smoke set off in one direction and an illusion of Neville joined the scene. A flash came out of Harry's wand. No one heard the word; they just saw the rushing flash of green light. Boggart-Harry turned. Ron drew his wand. "Riddikkulus! Riddikkulus!" Ron shouted. The blood in the scene turned into tomato ketchup. The crazed Harry and the dead figures on the floor revealed themselves to be just pretending. Ron was pretty shaken up.

Hermione was next. She stepped forward. A book flew out. And another. An entire stack formed. 100 books, different shapes, sizes, colours, titles, authors, and then on top, a book of all knowledge. Suddenly, Draco strolled onto the scene. He tore through the books, tearing them to shreds. Then, he grabbed a match out of his pocket. He was about to set the books alight when...

"RIDDIKKULUS!" Hermione screamed. She banished the phantom of Draco, the burnt and shredded books. Hermione slowly slunk to the back of the room. Harry looked pleadingly at her. Then, the Boggart was released…

The only memorial Boggart the class would see. A small picture, sepia-faded yet brutal, began to play.

 _Stuck here. Alone. Abandoned. Feelings of hatred, of betrayal, of sorrow. Why? Why had he done that? And why had they accepted it? He sat, sharp edges cutting into his flesh. He had several wounds. Only a month. Only a month, but it felt like forever. He was still here. But why? A torn rag stuck to a wound. He called it a 'bandage'. Why was he in Azkaban? How could 1_ _st_ _year at_ a simple _school go so horribly wrong?_

 _A few days later. He was crying because he couldn't scream. They'd sliced his tongue. He couldn't speak. He couldn't bring himself to move more that to put a single, solitary tally mark on the scratched stone walls. Why couldn't they just hurry up and bring the Dementor's kiss? Why did they have to subject him to this misery first? He saw the figure at the door. A Dementor. He prepared himself for that day's inevitable torture. He built mental barricades. He chanted to himself that his friends were still coming. But they seemed like they wouldn't. Then, the flaying of skin began. Seconds, minutes, hours of torture. Then, he blacked out._

Harry, by now, was huddling on the floor, desperately trying to retreat from the Boggart. Suddenly, the memory came to life. Five Dementors in a chevron-like formation emerged, converging on Harry. The candles dimmed. The room was still frozen in shock. Then, Harry found a deep well of determination, desperation, and hope inside of him. He channelled it into one mighty incantation of "RIDDIKKULUS! RIDDIKKULUS! RIDDIKKULUS!" Three puffed away. Professor Lupin gasped. A solidified Boggart. Where the image of the fear becomes itself. I think, therefore I am, if you like. He gasped. A trail of smoke began to come out of Harry's mouth. He was receiving the Dementor's kiss. The entire class were chanting "RIDDIKKULUS! RIDDIKKULUS! RIDDIKKULUS!" No avail. Suddenly, it stopped. The Dementor withdrew. Lupin cried "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" and the Dementors disappeared. A white wolf glistened in the darkness, and brightened the room. However, Harry remained unmoving. Had the Dementor got him?

Harry was hunched over in a ball. He slowly groaned. Somehow, he had resisted the Dementor's kiss. He needed medical attention. He was in shock, and was hyperventilating. Hermione and Ron carried Harry to the hospital ward. It took three days for him to be healed. However, after those three days, he was safe, healed, and happy!

Two weeks later, the third-years were excited. All students from third-year and upward got to go to the local village, Hogsmeade. Harry called in at home on his way down, and picked up a small amount of money to buy a last minute present for Hermione. And by last-minute, Harry was buying this on Hermione's birthday. Harry scanned the shops. Perhaps… Yes, Hermione would like _A History of Hogwarts: Unbiased Version of 'Hogwarts: A History', Currently on Version 3_. That looked like just her type of book. He grabbed it and paid for it, as well as a huge bunch of sweets and a voucher to be used in any Hogsmeade store worth 50 galleons. He grabbed a piece of wrapping paper covered in the emblem of Ravenclaw house. He knew that Hermione would love it.

The trio met up around two o'clock in _The Hog's Head_ , the local tavern. Hermione received both of her presents from her friends, Harry's bundle of gifts and Ron's _Encyclopaedia Mugglatis_ (Muggle Encyclopaedia), which came in 7 thousand-page volumes. Hermione was overjoyed. Harry went to the bar.

"Three butterbeers please. Warm please." Harry asked. He handed over a galleon. He was given three butterbeers. Nothing abnormal. Ron downed his and then sauntered off to the quidditch shop. A hooded figure hiding outside noticed this and crept round the back. HE poured a flask into a nearly empty barrel. Two butterbeers left out of that. Then Hermione came to the bar. Two butterbeers were poured. The mysterious hooded figure cackled as he saw the duo down the drinks. The plan had worked…


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Me no own HP. This is the only M-rated chapter, and rated so for a good reason. If you don't want to read M, then simply scroll to the bottom and I will give a summary of the chapter. Please review to tell me how to improve the plot/quality/characters. Enjoy!**

 **Chapter Rating: M**

Chapter 7

The Scandal At The School

Hermione and Harry decided that they wanted to wander round Hogsmead some more, and check out the 'Hogsmead Hoggy Hoggy Hog Shop', a gift shop dealing in muggle atrifacts decorated with Hogsmead photos and enchanted in some way. There was a pen you could get that you could put a picture of you smiling on, and the scenery would always change. There was a fridge magnet that stuck to all surfaces. And there was a photo frame, the outside of which was decorated with carving of important Hogsmead carvings, which displayed the viewers greatest desire. As Harry stared at it, he couldn't help but wonder why it displayed a wedding…

Harry and Hermione giggled, much to Ron's annoyance. Ever since they'd come back from the Hog's Head, they'd seemed… well, different. They almost seemed like suddenly… no, who in the Hog's Head would do such a thing, and what would they have to gain from it? It was weird and annoying. Harry smiled. Hermione, even though nothing had been said, broke out in giggles. No, it couldn't be…?

That night, Harry couldn't sleep. Neither could Hermione. Almost telepathically, the duo crept out of the tower without talking to each other and arrived at a door that Harry had happened to stumble upon during second year, after he had been poisoned. It was a door that only appeared if a person walking by needed it. Peculiar. Very peculiar. Hermione arrived just a few minutes later. They winked and jumped into the bed.

The following morning, Harry and Hermione woke up. They'd enjoyed last night. They went and picked their clothes up off the floor, and went down to breakfast. They really had. For both of them, it had been breath taking. Then, as they went down to breakfast, something changed. They no longer had that urge. Had their drinks been… spiked? No, it couldn't be. Who in the Hog's Head would do such a thing? Nevertheless, Harry and Hermione met up after breakfast in the moving room that you could never rely on. Hermione brought a book. The title was all the information anyone else needed to get gossip going: _Spells to identify love and aphrodisiac potions_.

"Really! Hermione, carrying a book about love potions?"

"Why would the Ravenclaw golden girl need that?"

"Who's the lucky man, d'you think?"

"I think Harry Potter. Did you see how obviously head-over-heels they were yesterday?"

"Love potion or aphrodisiac?"

"Well, they looked quite dishevelled when they arrived at breakfast this morning, so.."

"You can't be implying…?!" Rumours abounded in the students that day. Harry and Hermione had tested using a spell known as _Revela caritate_ ,which was Latin for 'reveal love'. They had both glowed bright pink. Which meant both types (Love potion and aphrodisiac potion). But why? And who? Hermione and Harry gently sat there, lost in thought…

"Well, well, well, look who we have here," drawled Draco Malfoy at break, "the couple of the century. What a nice pair you two make. A boy or a girl, huh?" Hermione just started sobbing. Harry stood up, and towered over Draco.

"Don't make me wish I had done the cruciatus on you willingly during first year. Else, my mouth might just slip open." Harry retorted.

"Ooh, the husband protects the wife!" Draco exclaimed in faked surprise before bursting into fits of laughter. Hermione stomped off, and Harry followed suit, though not after glaring at Draco. Hermione did some more research, and discovered that while the love potion they thought they'd been dosed with wore off quite soon afterwards, it did make any other feelings that the people dosed with it had for each other, which meant that Harry was fiercely protecting Hermione from any other bully. Break came and went however, and lessons came again. Yet another year, tainted with misery.

At lunch, Harry and Hermione decided that Dumbledore, headmaster, should probably know. That is, if he hadn't already heard the rumours circulating. Therefore, the duo went to Dumbledore's office, and began their conversation with an "Ummmm…" and a "Pleasedon'ttellusoffwewereundertheinfulenceofapotionpleasebekindprofessor." Dumbledore, who had heard the rumours, immediately put two and two together.

"Well, I think I understand. I have heard the rumours, which is what you are coming to talk to me about…" Dumbledore said. He was met with two nods.

"Very well. If you were under the influence of a potion, then there shall be no punishment. However, I do ask you one thing: did you use a contraceptive spell Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Ummm, what's that?" Harry nervously stuttered. Dumbledore looked worried.

"Very well. I will have to make an announcement to the school, is that okay? And Hermione, you need to see Madame Pomfrey every five weeks…" Dumbledore said. The duo slowly nodded. And then, they hurried out, scared at the possibility that they would be parents in third year.

Ten weeks later, Hermione went for a checkup. Pomfrey cast a spell: _Revela infantem_ (reveal baby). Hermione glowed green. A yes. Hermione was going to be a mother. Hermione didn't know whether to be happy or sad, overjoyed or miserable. This would undoubtedly lead to more bullying, but Hermione had always wanted a child. Just not this early. Ten weeks later again (twenty weeks), Harry came with Hermione this time. _Gender infantem_ (gender of the baby) was cast, and Hermione glowed a very weird colour, almost a lilac. Pomfrey uttered one single word. "Twins."

June 29th. Hermione was in the hospital ward. Harry was standing nearby, holding Hermione's hand, while Ron and Neville, the children's godfathers, stood a respectful distance back. Today was the big day. The twins, named Jean Minerva and James Albus, were only minutes away. Hermione was scared, but muttered out a few words.

"An incantation I've made. Use it shortly afterwards. _Auferam infirmitatem_. Latin for 'Take away weakness. It will make my body stronger for an hou-ow! Ow!" Hermione started screaming in pain. A head was visible, but would Hermione survive?

Later that day, Harry held James, while Hermione held Jean. They had decided that they would spend alternate summers with the children; James would spend this holiday with Harry and next holiday with Hermione and Jean vice versa. It had turned out all right in the end.

 **A/N: Plot-Harry and Hermione (who are dosed up with love and aphrodisiac potions), discover that Hermione is pregnant with their children, Jean Minerva Granger-Potter and James Albus Potter-Granger. Hermione invents a spell 'Auferam infirmitatem' that takes away someone's weakness for an hour or so. Children are born.**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N: This year is where things get interesting. I shall follow the storyline of the books kind of, with the tournament and everything, but year 4 (which is split over multiple chapters) has a darker ending. This chapter is… MORE FILLER! YAY!**

 **Chapter 8 – New year, old spells different results…**

 **Chapter Rating: T**

Year 4 was looming large in Harry's sights. He had been to the quidditch world cup (better than the muggle world cup by far) and Hogwarts was beckoning. Harry was desperately hoping it would work out better this year than all the others. Year 1? Arrest. Year 2? Poison. Year 3? A scandal that kind've had a happy ending sort of. So, what was on the menu this year? Death? Destruction? An evil psychopathic thing? No, kind of, and kind of. Well, technically, all three were kindofs. But Harry had no knowledge of this as he boarded the Hogwarts express.

The beginning of term feast had begun. Harry looked expectantly at Dumbledore, who was about to make an announcement. But what?

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I have an announcement! The prestigious Triwizard Tournament, the famous event held every few years, is being hosted here at Hogwarts!" Dumbledore proclaimed. Cheers went up.

"Sadly, due to safety, only 6th or 7th years can take part, as the tournament contains a lot of dangerous things inside it." Dumbledore continued. Boos occurred.

"The two other schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, will soon arr- why, here they are now!" Dumbledore finished. A boat gently sailed in through the roof, covered in French students. The male students let out a sigh of love. Well, apart from Harry, but that's beside the point. A hole opened up in the floor, leading to a deep chasm. Huge, luminous orange clouds of dust erupted, and out of them came the Durmstrang students. Dressed in huge fur coats, they held staffs with small balls of flame at their tops. Hogwarts gasped in amazement. Wow.

Apart from the extra students and sixth/seventh years going and trying their luck at entering the tournament, life went on as usual. A first DADA lesson by professor Lupin broke that normality.

"Today, we shall learn about the unforgivable curses. Does anyone know of any of them?" Lupin asked, glancing at Harry with a look that said _I'm sorry. So, so sorry. Let me make it up to you by buying you an ice cream or something_. Hermione put her hand up.

"The imperius curse, used for complete mind control, the cruciatus curse, a torture spell that eaves no marks but mental ones," Lupin chanced a glance at Neville who was pale white, " and the killing curse, which does what it says on the tin." Much to the class' morbid fascination, Lupin then performed all three on a spider (The imperius made Harry uncomfortable, Neville said "Stop it!" at the cruciatus, and the class were horrified at the speed of the incantation _Avada Kedavra_ ).

"Now class, I shall, with your permission, perform the imperius on you. This is entirely up to you, but it may be your only opportunity to learn how to resist if a dark witch or wizard fires it at you. You do not have to do it. If you are not interested, you are let out to break early, and your homework is to write a foot-long essay of an unforgivable of your choosing. Who is staying?" Lupin proclaimed. Everyone but Harry (he didn't want a repeat of year 1 ever), Hermione (inquisitive), and Ron (also inquisitive) left. Ron was first. He rather spectacularly did 25 somersaults backwards through three flaming hoops while singing the national anthem and doing his DADA homework… impressive, but he couldn't resist. Harry was next, and while he was told to sing ten 1D songs he got halfway through the second before he stopped. Not too bad, could use a little work. Hermione last. Nothing. Nothing at all. She was… very good.

DADA continued to raise controversial conversations in the corridors of Hogwarts. For a second lesson, a reminder on Boggarts for precautions if anything in any of the annoyingly vague tasks escaped. So, more charms, more 'Draco avoiding stuff by crying', and more drama. Hermione's bogart hadn't changed, but Ron's had. The boggart was let out. Ron saw himself holding a stack of tests. He handed them to his head of house, who then shoved them on the floor and shouted that he was an awful student.

"R- Rid- Rid- Ridikkulus!" Ron said. The Boggart disappeared, meaning Harry had his go next.

The closet opened. Nothing happened. Then, a hand appeared from around the door. A wand clattered out. But that was… his wand? How? A figure sauntered out, and picked up the wand. But… how? The Boggart, which looked, sounded like, and essentially was Harry, sneered.

"Tell them." It whispered. Harry ignored it.

"Riddikkulus!" he cried. Nothing happened.

"Fool! You cannot destroy me for I am you! I am your every dark moment, every evil thought, every dastardly plan. I am as much you as you are, and you could not kill yourself, could you?" Boggart-Harry said. Harry just shuddered.

"Remember the cruciatus in first-year? And how you were under the imperius? Well, would anyone like to know the j-" The boggart continued.

"STOP BENDING THE TRUTH! I DID NOT ENJOY THAT, THOSE MONTHS OF HELL!" Harry screamed.

"Fine then. I shall stop there. But where else to go. Such a troubled life. What about the time you, as a snake, nearly killed someone?"

"I- I- was three and th- th- they scared me. I did- didn't know b- b- b- b- better."

"Yeah right. How about, shall I tell everyone your side of the scandal last y-"

"NO! WHATEVER YOU'LL TWIST THE TRUTH INTO IT'LL BE A LIE!"

"Fine then. I guess you're more annoyed right now than scared. So let the scares go up." Boggart-Harry taunted. He pointed his wand, and muttered " _Crucio_ ". It hit Ron. He writhed in pain. Then he stopped. He pointed the wand again, this time at Hermione, and muttered " _Imperio_ " before asking her to go and kiss Draco. Harry dropped his wand in fear. By now, Lupin was chanting Riddikkulus, but it didn't help.

"One more spell. To you Harry. _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ " Boggart-Harry said. Harry saw a green, rushing light. Then his world went dark.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: Yo! Welcome to the next part of year 4 of TAC (T[he] A[U] C[hronicles]). Not much in this authors note, sorry. One thing: I'm sorry I took so long, but I kind of got locked out of my account. I'm back though! This chapter is also long though, so take it as compensation.**

 **Chapter 9: The Explainations And The First Task**

 **Rating: K+**

Silence rang around the DADA classroom. Shock. Horror. Confusion. Ron lay wincing, Hermione did not know whether to be shocked or afraid, and Harry was slumped in a corner, not breathing. Hermione was the first one to react. She raced over and gently cradled Harry's head in her arms. This couldn't have happened. No, it couldn't. Neville came over, whispered in Hermione's ear, and ran off to find Madame Pomfrey. Shock was still rampant. The tears were coming now, the Ravenclaws gently weeping for their lost comrade. Harry's usually green eyes no longer reflected the vivid colour of the curse that had hit him. Hermione was crying, desperately trying all methods, even muggle ones, to resuscitate. Suddenly, just as Hermione had given up, Harry's body jolted. His eyes shone in the light of the classroom. He was alive! But how?

"I'm not sure Hermione, but I have some guesses. The spell that hit Harry wasn't conjured by a wizard and therefore wasn't as powerful, maybe temporarily petrifying him. As for why you couldn't resist the imperius? Probably because your defences were down after the boggart." Lupin responded to Hermione's questions. Harry was, inexplicably, recovering, and could now say full sentences! Hermione had brought their children to be with Daddy, and that had definitely put a shine to his day.

After the incident in DADA, not much happened for the rest of the next two weeks. Under sixth years tried and failed spectacularly to enter the tournament, culminating in Ron ending up in the hospital wing with a large tub of skele-gro after being flung backwards ten or more feet into a wall. Spectacular! Most underage wizards and witches had stopped trying after that. Hermione had, as usual, been doing homework, Ron had, as usual, been reading, and Harry had… well, what had he done? Not all that much. He was still shaken up by the Boggart but refused to let it control him.

The night of the champions came. The entire school convened in the hall. The goblet, a two-foot tall solid gold cup with gems engraved and embedded deep within spat out magical blue flames. As Dumbledore entered the room, the lights dimmed. The room grew silent. Even Peeves stopped dripping ice cream onto Filch's head.

"Tonight, the three champions shall be named. They shall not have an exit now, and they shall have to perform to the best of their abilities in the trying and intimidating trails up ahead. If any monsters should escape, Defence teachers shall teach you general spells that you can use against them. Let the Triwizard tournament begin!" Dumbledore explained. He shot a bold of white light at the cup. The soft blue flames glowed Red for Durmstrang. A piece of paper flew out.

"VICTOR KRUM!" Karkoff, the Durmstrang headmaster shouted. The flames, which had briefly changed back to the soft yet threatening blue, were now a midnight, deep blue for Beauxbatons.

"FLEUR DELACOUR!" Maxime, the French headmaster said with joy. The goblet lit up again, this time in four colours: red, blue, yellow, and green. A piece of paper landed in the headmasters hand. He opened his mouth, but then closed it again in shock. Lupin and Snape came over, mystified. Dumbledore showed them the paper. Their mouths were open in shock.

"Harry Potter?" Dumbledore enquired. Harry was stunned. But you couldn't enter unless you had taken OWL's yet, could you? I mean, Harry could probably take them right now, but that wasn't the point. How had this happened? His stomach churning, he got up. His knees were wobbly. He felt worried. Hundreds of eyes were upon him. Somehow, he had beaten the charms. But he hadn't even entered… Harry felt sick. Yet again. Another year lay ahead, tattered not even out of September.

"How did you get in?" quietly asked Dumbledore. Somehow, Harry's name had made it past the age line. Dumbledore, the greatest sorcerer of all time, had failed. Somehow. Harry mumbled something. He had no clue how he had got in. He hadn't entered himself. A grin flashed Harry's way across the room. Only as he was ushered away into the champions room did he realise who it was that had grinned at him. What had Draco Malfoy planned this time?

"No Harry, the incantation is 'accio'. Not 'achio'. Repeat after me: a-k-ee-oh. Accio." Hermione tutored Harry. The date of the first task drew near. He was only allowed his wand, but he had seen large stones and be shipped in, making him think it was some kind of obstacle course. Of course, it would be so much easier if he could fly above these obstacles, so he was learning how to use a spell to summon his broom, a firebolt. He tried summoning a book from a few feet away. It slowly twitched. An improvement, but not what was needed. He tried again.

"Accio book!" he said, and finally, after several hours, the book flew across the room, nearly decapitating Hermione in the process, before landing in his hand. Finally! Then, Harry had an idea…

Dinnertime, the great hall. Professor Snape saw his plate twitch. Then twitch again. Then float off of the teachers table and into the air. It zipped towards the Ravenclaw table where Harry had his hand up with his wand in it. He suddenly dropped his hand and Snape's plate smashed into the wall. Fred and George Weasley from the Gryffindor table looked over in admiration of this expert prank. Hmm, Harry could be a good prankster. He then repeated this for the next few days, and every day Snape never saw him. So Harry made Snape think either him or his plate was going mad. Fred and George came and congratulated him the morning of the first task. A much needed morale boost before a potentially deadly unknown task. Dragons.

Five friends and both parents were allowed to accompany the champions to the task. For Harry, this was a no-brainer: Ron, Hermione, the two kids, Neville (who was becoming a much better friend after the discovery of the mutual hatred of most if not all things Slytherin - Neville respected but despised the house while Harry accepted it's snake heritage), Snape, who Harry knew ( he simultaneously hated the rest of Slyhterin), and of course James and Lily. There was some kind of loophole that meant that the two kids counted as one. He didn't understand it at all. He did't understand why he was here at all. He shouldn't be. That was all he knew about the fiasco. He felt butterflies in his stomach. He felt sweat dripping gently down his neck. Fleur and Victor stood with their friends and families. Harry was late. He saw a sack, and enquired about its contents. He was curious, after all. He received his answer courtesy of Ludo Bagman, head of some department or other in the ministry of something or other. It didn't make much sense to Harry. Ludo told him that they got to pick a number from the bag, oldest first. Victor drew a Chinese Fireball. A dragon. The champion's collective breaths hung in the air. Fleur was next – a Common Welsh Green. The two drew their dragons and then faced them. They got 40 and 36 respectively. Harry pulled his out. A Hungarian Horntail. Hermione simply gasped.

"He can't fight that! It'll kill him! Trained dragon-handlers find them hard!" Hermione argued.

"Well, he shouldn't have entered himself then. A deadly competition. You would've thought he'd have known what he was getting into." Karkoff, the Durmstrang Institute head, replied sarcastically.

"But he didn't enter hims-" Hermione started to argue, but Harry stopped her.

"I'll do it," Harry replied, "because I have to and because it is right. For there is a defference between what is right, and what is easy."

"Okay, start when you are ready. Good luck." Ludo said, suddenly sombre. Harry slowly walked out. What could he do to outsmart the dragon? He couldn't hurt it; he was too much of a pacifist. He couldn't outsmart it. He had an idea. It was risky though. He transformed, for the first time in years, into his snake animagus form. Then, the fight began.

"'Hello Insssolitam.'" The dragon hissed. Harry froze. He hadn't heard that name in so long.

"'What would you like? I would like your egg, and I am aware of the parssseltongue rulesss: asssk for one thing, receive another.'" Harry logically hissed.

"'You may take the egg in human form. Merely tell me your ssstory while you do it. You are very famousss, Insssolitam.'" The dragon replied. So, Harry cautiously returned to human form, made his way over the rocks, and spoke to the dragon about his adventures while he did so. He talked about his years as a snake, and his years adjusting to human life. He clambered to the nest, talking about Azkaban and being poisoned while he retrieved the egg. He told, leaving out some minor details, about third year. He finished, slowly crawling over the last few metres of barren rocky ground, by talking about his confusing entry into the tournament and his boggart. The dragon merely thanked him gently, and bowed. Harry returned the gesture, before walking into the tent to the cries of joy from his fellow Ravenclaws. The judges merely turned to one another, and gave him a 47. Remarkably, he was ahead!


End file.
